Just a Couple of Lemonheads
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Written for the Candyland Challenge for Chit Chat on Author's Corner. What happens when Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi celebrate just a smidge to much on a special occasion. Pure Slashy Fluff.


_**Author's Note: Hello, wonderful readers. At any rate, we have just a few announcements for everyone today.**_

_**IMPORTANT: WE HAVE 15 DAYS LEFT TO VOTE! LET'S ALL GET MOTIVATED!**_

_**First, please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming three weeks and VOTE for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your vote be heard and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**_

_**Thank you to everyone taking the time to vote and avertise for us. We appreciate each and every one of you. The responses are starting to roll in and we have a tight race running in several categories. Let your opinion be heard.**_

_**Second, we also have great new interviews with several of our nominees. Today, we are "getting to know" the following: b-mystique, Nagen66, Monkeywand, and Hidge. More interviews are coming soon!**_

_**Many thanks to everyone still reading these stories. We really appreciate you. Now, on with the show!**_

_**A special thank you to author Thn0715 to turning me onto this pairing. I never knew what a blast they could be until reading your work!**_

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**Just a Couple of Lemonheads**

Cracking one eyelid as the bright morning sunshine streamed into the darkened bedroom, Aaron Hotchner groaned deeply, throwing one arm over his eyes to block the glare.

As soon as he convinced himself that he could move again, he was going to kill the man beside him.

Painfully. Viciously. And with very little regret. And as far as he was concerned, no court in the land would convict him.

"A couple of Lemonheads, my ass, Dave," he muttered under his breath as he shifted against the man behind him. Those potent little drinks they'd had at the local bar last night had been the biggest mistake he'd made in years.

Well, the second biggest. Allowing himself to be goaded by his lover into drinking like a twenty-one year old kid had been the first. And that was a mistake he was determined to never, ever repeat again.

Rolling away from him as he buried his face in the pillow, his hip caught the remote control in bed with them, abruptly filling the room with the blaring sound of a CNN newscaster. Blindly fumbling beneath the covers for the remote, he was desperate to quell the sound.

"Turn it off! Turn it off," Dave mumbled behind him.

Finally locating the errant controller, Aaron pointed it in what he hoped was the direction of the television and muted the volume. "Stop complaining. This is all your fault anyway. What the hell was in those drinks last night?"

Wincing as Aaron's voice seemed to echo inside his skull, Dave patted the comforter shrouded body beside him. "Shhhh," he grumbled heavily. "My head hurts."

Looking over his shoulder at Dave, Hotch glared at him in bleary condemnation. "You deserve it. I warned you we weren't as young as we used to be."

"You weren't saying that last night," Dave replied with a faint smile as images of the night before flashed in his mind, his previously sleepy body slowly deciding that it just might be time to wake up.

"I'm saying it now," Hotch muttered, his head swimming as he sat up in the bed. Thank God Jack was away at soccer camp. Seeing both of his fathers in this kind of condition wasn't the image he wanted to project to his impressionable son. "We're too old for this crap."

"It was a special occasion," Dave grinned, stretching his arms above his head before reaching for his cell phone on the nightstand. Glancing at the time, he squinted, the lighted numbers fuzzy. "It's already noon," he rumbled, dropping it back to the table with a clatter. "When was the last time we slept this late?"

"Probably our last anniversary," Hotch muttered, throwing off the covers as he padded toward the bathroom. Searching through their medicine cabinet, he moved the bottle of Pepto-Bismol in search of the aspirin. Locating the little white bottle, he popped two tablets in his mouth, swallowing them dry, before tapping two more into his hand and filling a glass with water.

Carrying the medicine to his husband...or the man who was as close to his husband as the United States government would allow them to be...Aaron handed them over into Dave's grateful hand. "You'd think after all these years I'd have found a way to ignore your little dares," he grumbled, walking around the bed and crawling back on the mattress, collapsing wearily against his pillow.

"You love my dares," Dave grinned, winking at Aaron appreciatively. "Especially when you're drunk."

"We're never doing that again," Hotch shook his head, wincing at the waves of pain that invaded his skull. "I don't think my tongue will ever recover," he groaned, his mouth puckering as he remembered the lemony taste of the drinks they'd imbibed.

"Hey, I told you to stop at one Lemonhead," Dave chuckled as he folded his pillow behind his head. "You're the one that insisted."

"You didn't try very hard to stop me," Aaron chided, rolling slowly in the bed. "You know how I am when I drink too much. Seriously, was it really necessary to dare me into doing Karaoke?"

"I thought your rendition of YMCA was endearing," Dave laughed, tossing the white pills to the back of his throat and chasing them with the water Hotch had brought him. "And better yet, I've got it all on video thanks to Garcia."

"There's evidence," Hotch groaned, his head flopping back against the pillows.

"Mmm," Dave nodded as he dropped the glass on the nightstand next to his cell phone. "It's not every day that we celebrate our ten year anniversary, Aaron," he chided. "I wanted a memory I could hold on to...and you definitely gave it to me. Especially your version of 'My Ding-a-ling'."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed that one. I'm now officially off the Lemonheads and all other alcohol," Hotch declared, his face reddening as he remembered his impromptu striptease as he'd sang. If not for Dave and Morgan dragging him away from the microphone, half of DC would know just exactly how long his ding-a-ling was. And that was information he was determined to keep in the sanctity of his marriage.

"Admit it," Dave teased, wrapping an arm around Aaron's waist, his fingers cupping around his lover's hip. "You had fun."

"Mnnnhhh," Hotch muttered. "I don't know if it's worth the hangover," he said, dropping his throbbing head against Dave's shoulder.

"Trust me, it was," Dave grinned against Aaron's head. "I'll prove it with the video later," he promised.

"No..nuh uh," Hotch grunted, shifting to find a comfortable position. "I want all evidence of last night destroyed. All I need is for Jack to find that DVD years from now and realize his father was a very sloppy drunk."

"That may be problem then," Dave choked against Hotch's neck as his laughter threatened to escape.

"Why?" Hotch asked cautiously as he slowly raised his head, silently dreading his lover's answer.

"Garcia texted us while you were in the bathroom. Evidently your performance of Bohemian Rhapsody has become YouTube's most downloaded video overnight. According to her, you're an internet sensation. You've gone viral, my love."

Closing his eyes, Hotch moaned. Loudly.

"And you said you'd never be more famous than me," Dave chided, brushing a kiss against Aaron's jaw. "How wrong were you?" he smirked, happily tightening his arms around Hotch's body.

"I hate you," Hotch growled without opening his eyes, his befuddled mind already attempting to create an appropriate plan of counter-attack…and failing mightily.

"Ah, but I love you," Dave countered, pressing his lips to Aaron's stubbled jaw.

"Liar," Hotch grunted.

"Never," Dave returned with a chuckle, nuzzling Hotch's neck. "We need to get up...your public awaits," he teased.

Rolling over to pin the older man to the bed, Hotch's eyes gleamed as he stared down into the other man's dancing eyes. "Screw my public. My number one fan and I have some business to complete."

And it was a very long meeting indeed.

But after it ended, neither one of them was complaining about a hangover any longer.

_**Finis**_


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